Flashback
by I am No Dartboard
Summary: A collection of childhood memories, flashbacks, silliness and nostalgia. One for each main character, piled together in the form of a game. My first Enterprise fanfiction.
1. Prologue: A game

A/N My first story revolving around _Enterprise_, or any other _Star Trek_ series. It was inspired by my mom's question at the end of the episode _Shuttlepod One_: "Can't they find a way to entertain themselves without alcohol, near-death experiences, or arguments?" This is Trip's attempt.

Each chapter will include the story it was inspired by, found at the end. There will be one for each main character, possibly additions if I really get into this. Let's see how it goes.

Disclaimer: According to a recent study, 75 percent of people surveyed think that the owners of any given television show spent most of their time impersonated various fanfiction authors. I am not one of them.

0700

Corridor

"Happy birthday, Captain!"

Captain Archer barely glanced up from his PADD and continued on his way to the turbolift as he replied to his friend's announcement. "It's not my birthday, Trip."

"Not _your_ birthday, Captain, but somebody else's."

Jon lowered his PADD, recognizing that he'd never get anything done until he finished the conversation. "Who's birthday is it?" he asked, not bothering to wonder why Trip would wish him a happy birthday on someone else's birthday.

"Guess." The chief engineer of the starship Enterprise grinned mischievously and stared at his captain. Archer sighed. He knew it couldn't be any of the crew's birthdays... he'd have to guess randomly, then.

"Your grandmother's."

"Nope."

"Someone famous."

"Not some_one_, per say."

"Something?"

"Yup."

"Is it... a place?"

"Not exactly..."

"Trip, I can't guess if you can't answer my questions properly."

Undeterred, Trip grinned again. "Well, cap'n, I'm surprised you didn't know this."

"Trip..."

"_Enterprise!_"

"_Enterprise_?"

"_Enterprise_. It's the anniversary of our launch day."

"Technically, Trip, that's not _Enterprise's_ birthday. She was finished before she left spacedock."

"But she wasn't complete until she'd sailed the stars." Trip waved his hand dramatically, ruining the effect by nearly smacking the captain in the face. "Sorry."

Archer waved his apology way, nearly smacking the chief engineer in the face. "Sorry."

Trip avoided waving as he nodded his acknowledgment. "Right."

"So I suppose you've already planned a celebration?" Archer asked.

"Mess Hall, 1700," Trip replied promptly. The captain promised to be there and left, leaving Trip standing in the corridor with a grin on his face. This was going to be fun...

1730

Mess Hall

"A game?" Sub-Commander T'Pol asked doubtfully.

"A game," Trip replied, the grin reappearing on his face. Everyone had noticed the grin as he had invited them to the party. Everyone was wary of it.

"What _sort_ of game?" questioned Malcolm.

"A storytelling game," Trip clarified.

Archer chuckled nervously. "I think I'm going to have to sit this one out, Trip," he told his friend. "I'm not very good at storytelling."

"Aw, c'mon, Captain!" protested the engineer. "Ya can't quit now."

"Trip, I haven't even started."

"Ya don't have to make anythin' up, Captain, they're true stories."

"All the more reason not to participate," T'Pol commented.

"I think it sounds like a good idea," Hoshi put in at the dejected look on Trip's face. "Right, Travis?"

"Sure, sounds like fun. How do you play?"

Trip held up a large top hat. "You pull a slip out of this hat," he explained. "It has an event, story, whatever on it. You tell the story as it applies to you."

"Where did you get the hat?" asked Malcolm.

"Are you gonna play?" evaded Trip.

Malcolm nodded reluctantly, and Trip handed him the hat. "Take one," he ordered.

With a sigh, the officer did so. He glanced up at Trip. "Am I allowed to read it... aloud?"

Travis hid a grin at the pun, as Trip confirmed that, yes, you did read it aloud.

"Retell the story of an event from your childhood that led you to the career path you have today." Malcolm looked up at the others, who were all watching him eagerly. He put down the slip.

"Well?" asked Trip.

"Well, what?" retorted Malcolm.

Trip sighed exaggeratedly. "Ya got to _tell_ the story, Malcolm," he pointed out.

Malcolm glared at him. "I was _going_ to," he snapped. "I was just pausing for... effect."

Archer glanced around. "Well, I'm sure we're all very eager to hear your... story, Malcolm," he said in an amused tone. "Why don't you start?"

And so he did.

-Well, this was a game played at a New Year's Eve party one year. Next chapter: Malcolm tells the story. Reviews welcome.


	2. Malcolm: The Exploding Kitchen Appliance

Wow. I didn't expect reviews the first day after they were posted! Thank you, Begoogled and Sita Z. In this chapter, Malcolm tells what led him to become an Armory Officer. And yes, it will include an explosion. It _is_ Malcolm, after all.

One other thing I should add is that all of these stories will be written like they're flashbacks. So that means that while the format will still be third person, I might have interjections from the audience. Just know that unless I say otherwise, they're hearing exactly what you are. Hope it doesn't confuse anybody.

Ten-year-old Malcolm Reed poked his head around the corner and grinned. Coast was clear.

"Malcolm, what _are_ you doing?" demanded his sister Madeline, following him. Malcolm shushed her.

"But..."

"Be _quiet!_ Do you want us to get caught?"

"I don't even know what we're doing!" Madeline complained.

"Well, that's good, then," replied Malcolm. "Now why don't you go upstairs, and keep watch..."

"For what?" demanded his sister. "I don't even know what we're watching for, and besides, Mom and Dad are gone. They won't be back for _hours_."

"Well, that's good then," repeated Malcolm. He then proceeded towards the basement, completely ignoring Madeline. She shrugged and followed him.

Not noticing her following him, Malcolm ducked into a corner of the basement and moved a few random objects to one side. He then stuck his arm into the gap they created, and pulled out a handful of firecrackers.

"What are you going to do with those?" demanded his sister, staring.

Malcolm whirled around and glared at her. "Nothing," he said quickly, stuffing them behind his back.

"What do you mean, 'nothing'?" retorted Madeline. "You wouldn't have taken them out if you weren't going to do anything with them. Now tell me what you're going to do!"

"I told you, nothing!" snapped Malcolm, ducking under her arm and running out of the room.

He hid under Madeline's desk while she searched his room, and stayed there for what felt like hours after she had given up and gone downstairs. Finally he crept out and peeked around the doorframe, listening intently. To his relief, he could hear the sounds of a blender whirring in the kitchen.

Sneaking down the stairs, Malcolm paused before reaching the back door, pressing his ear against the wall between him and the kitchen. To his surprise, he noticed that there were no sounds of his sister, only the blender. Mentally shrugging it off, he turned to sneak outside...

And came face-to-face with Madeline, holding a spatula...

* * *

"Wait a minute," interrupted Travis. "If she was cooking something in the blender, why did she need a spatula?"

Malcolm paused to consider this. "I don't know," he said with evident surprise. "I'd never thought of that..."

"Maybe she wanted to hit you with it," offered Trip.

Hoshi pursed her lips, thinking. "It does sound like she was waiting for him..."

"Maybe she just turned on the blender to cover the fact that she wasn't in the kitchen?" asked Archer.

"I highly doubt that a child could be so devious against her own brother," countered T'Pol.

"Yer underestimating the power of sibling rivalry," Trip warned her. "If she _really_ wanted to catch Malcolm doing something he shouldn't..." The engineer shook his head wordlessly.

"Was she aware that he was doing something wrong?" asked Phlox.

"He _was_ acting pretty suspicious," Travis put in.

"We don't even know what he was doing," pointed out Hoshi.

Archer started to ask Malcolm, but was interrupted by his talkative engineer.

"Well, it was a little obvious that he wasn't supposed to have firecrackers, and sneaking around like that..."

"_Excuse_ me," interrupted Malcolm. "If you don't mind..." With a few grumbled apologies, the crew settled back down to hear the rest of the story.

* * *

... And came face-to-face with Madeline, holding a spatula.

"Ha!" she shouted "Caught you!" Malcolm yelped and jumped backwards, running back up the stairs, with his sister in hot pursuit.

"Get back here, you little twerp!" she shouted. The 'little twerp' (although Malcolm would never refer to himself as that) ducked behind their parents' bed, neatly avoiding Madeline.

She started to move towards the bed, and he edged backwards, but Madeline ducked around the side and came running towards him. Malcolm clambered over the bed and darted out the doorway.

"Can't catch me now!" he called back, to his sister's evident fury.

* * *

"Maybe she was cooking two things at the same time," suggested Hoshi suddenly. Everyone turned to look at her, and she shrugged. "Well, she could have been cooking something in the blender and cooking something that required a spatula at the same time."

"What actually _requires_ a spatula?" asked Trip. "Seem pretty useless to me."

"Cookies?" pondered Travis.

"Why do you need spatulas for cookies?" demanded Trip.

"I don't know. Getting them off the pan?"

"Could she have been making the dough in the blender?" asked Archer.

"And maybe getting the spatula out to use later when she heard Malcolm coming down the stairs!" agreed Travis.

"How did she hear him, though?" asked Hoshi. "He seemed to be being pretty sneaky."

"He was _ten_, Hoshi," pointed out the engineer. "Stepped on a board, smacked his head against the wall a little too hard..."

"Smacked his head against the wall?" asked Phlox.

Trip shrugged. "Happens. I've done it."

Nobody commented on that revelation, despite the obvious openings it left.

"Do you _mind_?" demanded Malcolm, once the awkward silence had ended. "I don't _have_ to finish the story, you know."

Archer hid a grin. "Sorry, Malcolm," he said. "Won't happen again."

* * *

... "Can't catch me now!" he called back, to his sister's evident fury.

Malcolm made it down the stairs, with Madeline charging after him. But she tackled him in the kitchen.

The firecrackers flew out of Malcolm's hand and straight into the blender. A few sparks shot out of it, and then it promptly exploded.

"Yeah, somehow, I guessed there'd be an explosion in here somewhere," muttered Trip. Malcolm ignored him.

The next day, Malcolm and Madeline came home from school looking very dejected. Both had ended up with the sticky dough entirely covering any part of exposed skin: after hours of bathing, both still insisted that they could smell baking on the other. Worst of all, the dough proved impossible to get out of hair.

So, the two Reed children had gone to school completely bald. Malcolm was also missing an eyebrow.

"I hope this has taught you something about firecrackers, Malcolm," his mother warned him.

He agreed that he had properly learned his lesson. But, privately, the future Armory Officer thought that exploding blenders were pretty cool.

* * *

"Exploding blenders?" asked Captain Archer. Malcolm shrugged.

"Only you, Malcolm," grinned Trip.

"Well, at least we figured out one thing," Hoshi commented. "There _was_ something in the blender, after all." The others rolled their eyes and went back to the conversation.

"So you decided on your future career based off of an incident involving kitchen appliances?" asked T'Pol.

Malcolm shrugged again. "You have to admit, exploding kitchen appliances do have their charm."

-This story came mostly from a story my friend told me about her brother Travis when he was ten years old. Nobody knows exactly _how_ he managed to blow up the blender, but to this day, he still regularly shaves his right eyebrow. He also has a job selling firecrackers. The chase scene, however, was from an incident with my own brother, who had stolen my sock for a sock-puppet show. Don't ask.


	3. Hoshi: Macho Man

I know I told one of you that I would write Trip next, but it just wasn't working. I couldn't come up with any ideas. Then I started thinking about the last one, which got me thinking about the boy it was about, and his sister. She had a good friend who was also a friend of mine, and in the middle of my reminiscing, I went to the gym, where they were playing the song 'Macho Man,' and that brought back memories of a whole new incident. So now it's Hoshi's turn.

Just realized that I hadn't mentioned this before, but if any of you come up with a question you want a character asked or remember a story that would be just _great_ with a particular crewmember of _Enterprise_, please feel free to give suggestions. Enjoy!

* * *

Once the conversation about the exploding kitchen appliances had died down, Trip pulled out the hat again.

"_Now_ will you tell us where you got the hat?" asked Malcolm.

Trip hesitated. "Once everyone's told their story, I'll tell." Grumbling, his friend acquiesced, and silently resolved to be sure that everyone told.

Hoshi was sitting to Malcolm's right, so it was her turn now. Grimacing, she pulled out the question of choice and read it to her shipmates.

"What have you done that we would think was extremely unlike you?" Hoshi considered that for a moment. A few stories were instantly discarded as too embarrassing (after all, Trip hadn't said it had to be the _most_ unlike her) and finally she hit on one that would undoubtedly provide amusement to all the listeners.

"Alright," the young officer began. "It happened when I was about twelve years old..."

* * *

Hoshi Sato was unshakably convinced that her new geography class was made up of the weirdest people she knew, and the weirdest people she was ever likely to meet. By the time Hoshi began her time on the Starship _Enterprise_, she proved herself wrong, but that's another story.

* * *

"Hey!" exclaimed Trip.

* * *

But, for some odd reason, when class got out for the lunch break and everyone sat around in the classroom munching and chatting, she felt compelled to stay as well, if only for the amusement.

Munching and chatting weren't the only things that the class was doing, however, and Hoshi...

* * *

"_Hoshi!_ Do you _really_ want to tell us this story?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Ensign. I'm sure Hoshi wasn't planning on telling us anything... inappropriate."

"I most certainly was _not_!"

"Sorry, Hoshi."

* * *

...And Hoshi was re-convinced every afternoon of her classmates' insanity.

Old Earth music, after all, had little or nothing to do with geography, leaning more towards 'nothing' than 'little'. And when the teacher began teaching them all dances so old that even _he_ couldn't have been around for them, well, Hoshi was _very_ confused.

Step and clap, step and clap, back and clap, back and clap, right, clap, left, clap... what was with all the clapping?

Having learned the dance and practiced it only twice, Hoshi was surprised when Tom Sarry, the virtual giant of the classroom, stood up and shooed his classmates off the 'dance floor' they had created by moving the desks around. With him he took a small group of his friends, notorious 'tough-guys,' none of whom Hoshi particularly knew or liked.

"We," Tom announced, "Are going to show you how a real macho man does the dance 'Macho Man'. Watch and learn."

Hoshi glared at them. Then, to everyone's surprise, she stood up. "I assume this is open to new members?" she asked, taking her place on the 'dance floor'.

"Hoshi..." Tom said, looking a little confused, "This is 'macho men,' not 'tiny girls'."

"Now that's not very nice," someone protested. Tom ignored them and gently steered Hoshi off the dance floor.

If the class had been surprised when Hoshi took the floor, they were even more stunned with what she did now. The young girl braced her feet against one of the 'macho men' (who gave her a strange look but didn't move) grabbed onto another, and screamed at the top of her lungs "Noooo! I want to be a macho man!"

* * *

T'Pol glanced around at the hysterical crewmembers and gave the equivalent of a confused stare to Hoshi. "I fail to see the significance of Ensign Sato being a 'macho man'," the Vulcan commented. That, unfortunately, only made everyone laugh harder.

Phlox didn't understand it, either.

"I was under the impression that a macho was a type of food with cheese on a crunchy snack," the doctor mused. "Would a macho man then be someone who sells this?"

Trip rolled his eyes. "Yeah, doc, that's _exactly_ what it is."

"Odd. I never knew that as a child, Hoshi wanted to sell snacks as a profession."

"Doctor Phlox... he was joking."

* * *

So the next few renditions of 'Macho Man' were preformed by a gang of the class's toughest boys, led by the one and only Hoshi Sato.

The next year, the group auditioned for the talent show, and got a standing ovation. Nobody really new what was so great about the small girl dancing to 'macho man' with a bunch of boys who looked like they belonged in prison, but somehow, it was.

And by the time they entered high school the kids had stopped calling Hoshi 'macho man'. Eventually, it died out, but whenever someone was asked the strangest sights they'd seen that year, Hoshi's name always made that list.

* * *

"You danced to the song 'Macho Man'?" asked Archer, trying to avoid laughing out loud at the image of their comm officer, the 'normal one' of the crew, doing something so incongruous. He only sort of managed.

"Captain," T'pol suggested suddenly. "The database you brought along has a large compliment of Earth songs. Would you assume that... 'Macho Man' is among them?"

Hoshi's eyes widened at the thought. "You wouldn't..."

T'Pol raised one eyebrow, pretending not to notice Trip and Malcolm exchanging looks. "Hardly. I merely desired to hear that song for myself."

Realizing who would be more likely to do something undesirable with the song, Hoshi turned suddenly to Trip. "Don't you dare..."

The engineer grinned innocently. "I wouldn't do anything... Macho Man."

* * *

-I swear, I actually saw a girl who looks a lot like a younger version of Hoshi doing that once. The 'nacho man' came from what I originally thought they were saying. Travis's interlude where he's told to get his mind out of the gutter was something that my friend said when I was telling a very different story with similar wording. The talent show I completely made up, the girl never performed it for anyone outside of our class. But hey, if you're a small, innocent looking girl and you know some macho men who'd be willing... give it a shot! 


End file.
